(Extra) Of Fall Out Boy & Love at First Sight
by Heroes Fly-Minho's Hero Limps
Summary: They've been in love for eight years. Married for three. Nothing can separate them now. This is the story of how all of it began, when Minho looked across the hall and saw a certain, beautiful boy...


-Of Fall Out Boy & Love at First Sight-

-Hiii! Nice to see you all again, readers! So, you remember that little story Minho told Teresa in Of Sweet Revenge & Wedding Rings? About how Minho first met Newt? Well, this is that story. :)

Reviews=Happiness :D

Hope you all like it!-

"Hey, Minho, did you get the math homework done last night?" Thomas was standing next to Minho's locker, rifling through his book bag for his unfinished Precalc homework. He waited patiently for an answer.

Well, on that particular day, Minho couldn't answer because he couldn't remember if he'd done his math homework or not. And he couldn't remember THAT because he was too busy staring at the boy across the hall.

It was Friday, the sacred day of the week that high school students waited for breathlessly in anticipation. It was homeroom period, and many teenagers were still in the halls, waiting for the bell to ring before they headed toward their homerooms. Girls were chatting with each other, flipping their hair over their shoulders and sending discreet glances at the boys who passed them. Guys were snickering about jokes only guys found funny, pushing each other around playfully. It was crowded, and lively with the buzz of talk and that last-day-of-the-week feeling.

Across that hallway, standing out against the blue of the lockers, was a beautiful boy.

Minho couldn't stop looking at him.

"Hey!" Thomas called suddenly. He snapped his fingers in front of Minho's face. "Earth to Minho! Did you hear me?"

Minho jerked out of his staring and blinked at his friend a few times. "What?" he asked dumbly. "What happened?"

"Oh my God, you're impossible." Thomas rolled his eyes up at the ceiling. Blowing his sandy-brown bangs off his forehead, he pointed sternly at his homework. "I asked you if you got any of this crap done. I was so shucking tired after track practice last night that I didn't get to work on it."

"Oh." Minho tried to get his mind to focus on the numbers printed across the sheet Thomas was holding up. "Um. I think I got it done."

"You think?" Thomas repeated. "How can you NOT know? Oh, you know what, I don't even care. I have this second period, so I'm desperate: can I borrow your—Are you ignoring me AGAIN?" he demanded incredulously.

Minho hurriedly snapped his gaze back from the boy across the hall to Thomas again. "I'm sorry, what?"

Thomas looked at him like he'd grown another head. "What is up with you today?" he asked, searching Minho's face.

"Nothing," Minho answered defensively.

"You're lying."

"Am not."

"Yes, you are."

"No, shuckface, I'm not."

"You were staring at the new kid, weren't you?"

"Shut up." Then Minho blinked. "Wait, he's a new kid?"

Thomas heaved a long sigh that said, I'm never going to get my homework done, am I? Then he resignedly took a step closer and pointed at the boy across the hall. "Him? Yeah, he's new," he replied. "I saw him in my English class yesterday. And he's not just new to the school, but to like, the United States."

Minho arched a brow at him. "How do you know THAT?"

"He's got an accent. British, I think."

"That doesn't mean he moved here from Britain. Just means his parents are British."

"Well, I was assuming he did. Anyway, all the girls love him. All he has to do now is join One Direction and they'll all be coming after him." Then he shrugged. "Not that I blame them," he added. "He is cute."

Minho gave him a withering look. "Remember Gally," he advised.

Thomas turned a burning shade of red and shuffled his feet. "We're not even dating," he pointed out.

"Yeah, but you want to." Minho smirked knowingly.

"All right, well, this isn't about me. It's about your crush on the new kid."

Minho snorted in denial. "I don't have a crush on him. I don't even know his name."

Thomas gestured across the hallway with an air of bravado. "Go ask him then," he replied lightly.

Despite himself, Minho was instantly filled with that giddy, stupid nervousness that came with talking to someone attractive. "Didn't you want my math homework?" he asked, hopefully to take Thomas' mind off the subject.

"Don't try to change the subject, Min," Thomas told him. His smile was all mischief. "You know you wanna talk to him."

"I never said that."

"Get over there, now."

"I'd rather not."

"Yeah, right."

"You're never gonna get your homework done, you know."

"I don't care; you have to talk to him." Thomas gave Minho's shoulder a push toward the new kid. "Just walk across the hall, and do your thing, okay?"

Minho dug his heels into the floor before Thomas could push him any farther. "My thing?" he echoed.

"Yeah, your thing. Just GO already, God. And give me your homework before you do."

"You owe me," Minho sighed. He dug around in his binder for his Precalc homework and held it out to Thomas.

Thomas plucked it out of his hand with a bright smile. "Thanks, Min," he said cheerfully. "All right, I'm going to homeroom to work on this. YOU go talk to that boy. If you don't, I'll find out and make you talk to him later." He lifted a hand in farewell. "See ya."

Minho glared after him as he disappeared in the growing mass of students. Stupid, pushy Thomas. If he lost Minho's homework, Minho was going to find some way to kill him. And what made him think that Minho wanted to go over and TALK to that kid? He snuck a sideways glance at the boy again. He WAS awfully cute... Honey-blonde hair was slightly tousled and fell beautifully across his eyes. And god, those eyes. They seemed to be charcoal-gray, but really, they were a dark shade of blue. These features, set against creamy skin and paired with that soft smile, made him incredibly stunning. Minho's hands felt shaky.

He did want to talk to him.

Before he knew it, he'd walked across the hall and right up to the boy. Some other girl was talking to him already, twirling her auburn hair around one finger flirtatiously. Her ice-blue eyes lit up with delight when she saw that she'd get to talk to Minho too. "Hi, Minho!" she greeted enthusiastically. "You guys did really good at the last track meet."

"Thanks," Minho replied automatically. His gaze was still on the blonde boy. He was looking at Minho with his smoky eyes. Minho ignored the girl's next sentence. His mind finally remembered how to flirt, how to make people like him; his posture relaxed and he smiled his lopsided smile. "Hey. You're new, right?"

To his delight, the boy blushed. "Yeah," he replied, and dear Lord, his accent was like silk. "I just moved here two days ago."

"I thought so; I haven't seen you around before." Minho's smile widened. "I'm Minho."

The boy smiled back, and then he said the name that would change Minho's entire world. "I'm Isaac Newton. But you can call me Newt."

Newt. Minho decided he liked the name. He shifted his weight to one leg, imperceptibly turning his body more toward Newt and less toward the girl beside them. "So, Newt," he began conversationally, and Newt's gaze lit up, "what class do you have first?"

"History," Newt answered, noticeably turning toward Minho too.

What a coincidence. "With old Mr. Janson?"

Newt laughed. "Yeah."

"Me too."

The girl was glancing back and forth between them disbelievingly, and slightly annoyed. "Um, hello?" she spoke up. "I'm still standing here." She crossed her arms over her chest and glared pointedly at Minho.

"Oh, sorry," Minho replied airily. He couldn't care less about her though. "I'm kinda busy right now."

"Doing what?" she asked irritably.

Minho switched his gaze from her to Newt, and smirked crookedly. "Flirting."

Newt's blush deepened and he dropped his eyes to his feet. The way he bit his bottom lip to stop a wide smile made Minho's heartbeat race. He didn't have time to say anything else, because at that moment, the bell rang. One by one, students scattered, heading for their homerooms. The loudness of conversations slowly died away. The redheaded girl sniffed at the two boys and stalked off. Minho didn't care what she did, really. He started walking and was pleasantly surprised when Newt walked alongside him. Their homerooms must've been close to each other.

"So, what was your old school like?" Minho asked.

"Eh, it was okay," Newt answered with a shrug. "There wasn't really anything to do there. They had a decent track team though."

Minho brightened at that. "Were you in track?"

"Yeah, for a long time."

"You should join the team here."

"I dunno..."

"What d'you mean, you don't know?"

Newt fixed his gaze on his feet as they walked. "I don't really know anyone here," he said uncertainly.

Minho bumped their shoulders together playfully. "You know me," he pointed out.

Newt looked up at him, his mouth tipping up at one side. "Well, yeah, but I just met you," he reminded him. "I don't know anything about you. Except that you're in track. And you don't know all that much about me either."

"I bet I could figure some stuff out though," Minho replied. He studied Newt carefully for a second. "Let me guess...you like Fall Out Boy?"

Newt blinked, then glanced down at his dark gray Fall Out Boy tee. "Oh." He let out a burst of laughter. "That was obvious. Yes, I like them."

"Good choice," Minho approved, and Newt laughed again. Minho felt his heart lighten. He loved making Newt laugh, because it had to be the most beautiful sound Minho had ever heard, like silver bells. "So now I know one thing about you and you know one thing about me," he went on.

"But that's it," Newt replied pointedly.

"We have time, don't we?" Minho asked in return. "To figure out the rest?" He sent Newt a questioning glance, eyebrows raised.

Newt's smile held every secret about him that Minho ever wanted to know. "Yeah. I guess we do."

They continued down the hallway, side by side.


End file.
